


Want and Also Need

by orphan_account



Series: Danplan/ActuallyOddPlan Oneshots— :3 [2]
Category: DanPlan, Video Blogging RPF, actuallyoddplan
Genre: Gavin is protective younger bro uwu, Hosuh is worried, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, also he worried, alternative/part 2 of Cancer au of previous oneshot, and I oop—, and Le gasp Jay and Dan are not here a g a I n, and also Eva is their sis, cancer au, everyone is worried in general, slight angst, stosuh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Where Stephen gives up and Hosuh needs to convince him otherwise.A Stosuh Au and oneshot where it is all angstI warned youRead the first one first, or don’t :3
Relationships: Hosuh Lee/Stephen Ng, Stephen Ng/Hosuh Lee
Series: Danplan/ActuallyOddPlan Oneshots— :3 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612840
Kudos: 45





	Want and Also Need

He’d been just doing nothing worth remembering. Just something unimportant, something which paled in comparison to what happened next.

He had wondered how Stephen was doing, with his family. He was happy, wasn’t he, from the cheery and sometimes somewhat sadistic letters from his house, and it seemed that he was well. Finally well.

Then he got a phone call.

He had strode to pick it up, a faint puzzlement, for no one he knew would ever call him directly, more like texts or voice messages.

His phone vibrated as he’d neared it, and the contact on it was an unknown number, an icon of a boy nearing manhood, smiling widely at the cameraman, and light blue locks tumbled over the side of his face, a clear clean undercut visible.

It kinda reminded him of the boy with the soft purple locks, of red ruby eyes that looked clearly at him even in troubled times.

He’d picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this—this Hosuh Lee?” The voice on the other end seemed to be familiar, and he visualised a chaotic personality not unlike Stephen’s own, and an innocent mindset.

“G—gavin?” It was Gavin.

“Hosuh.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Hey, Gav! I was planning to visiting sometime, perhaps something like next week?” Hosuh had brightened up. “How is Stephen now?”

“Hosuh.” It was stressed, rough, unlike the small glimpse of Gavin’s personality he had just a few months ago.

“I—?” Hosuh paused.

“I called you to tell you something, Hosuh.

“He doesn’t want you there.”

“What?” The world stops at that single word, and the air was still, solid. He couldn’t move.

So that was why he wrote those letters. To keep him 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 from him. Not to see him.

How 𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 he was, to ever believe that 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 would want him near him?

“He’s had to 𝘭𝘪𝘦, all to keep me away? I must be that horrible, that annoying—“ Hosuh choked on stale air, strangled, his eyes blurring.

How dumb of him.

“𝘕𝘰, Hosuh— Hosuh.”

“Tell him I won’t bother him any—“

“He’s sick 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, Hosuh.”

The word stopped all the words getting out and pushing themselves out from his mouth. It broke off and floated off in the wind.

𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬?

In their world, it means something else. Not 𝘐'𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳, or 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘢, 𝘥𝘶𝘥𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦.

No.

“What?”

“He doesn’t want you to come, Hosuh. It’s been two months, and he—

“He’s given up, Hosuh.”

____________________

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰?

He’s currently at the farm where Stephen lives, and where he’d crashed in because of family problems, where he knew he lived in because of some brochures, and that brief conversation in the hospital, and he had been strong, a fiery light in his eyes.

He doesn’t know how he is now.

Gavin peeks out nervously from the open doorframe, and he sees as his eyes land squarely on Hosuh’s frail body, the shallow and deep scars still intact, the bandages still plastered on his small face.

“Hosuh,” he hears Gavin whisper, and then Gavin runs forward to pull him into an uncomfortable hug.

And the rest of Stephen’s family is there, his sister Eva, the aqua hair with an undercut not unlike her brothers’, the usual braid not in place, and Stephen’s parents, tired and still polite.

They usher him in quietly. 

“Tea? Or coffee?” Mrs Ng asks sweetly, hustling to the stove, while the others fill up the room with small talk, and faint laughter. 

He doesn’t feel like anything. How did they pretend, when there was a Stephen-sized hole in the very being of the air itself?

“Anything.” For their sakes, and his own, he’ll have to try.

Hosuh watches as Eva sets the table, laying down the plates and culinary precisely. He counts five.

“Oh, he won’t be joining us today,” Eva says softly, not looking at him.

They would do anything, anything to fill the hole purple had put in their lives.

Small talk couldn’t fix it, or fill it. Because such a hole can only be filled by the person of the elephant in the room.

____________________

The hallway is quiet, and Hosuh can hear his own soft footsteps echoing faintly. The air is still here, and behind him is the end of noise, and the start of the silence that pulls him in.

There is a closed door at the end, and it draws him, with its quiet.

Hosuh pauses at the door. 

𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬. That’s all he can do against the choking feelings plugging his chest, unable to speak out. He slides down the frame, kneeling down, hand bunched into a loose fist.

𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬. He waits, unbearingly, for the 𝘵𝘢𝘱 to his 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬, like so many months ago, when they first met in the hospital, separated by a door, six centimetres apart, unable to communicate.

“Shhh, I’m writing you a letter.” The voice is soft, nearly inaudible, but in the corridor’s silence, it is heard, and closer than he has expected. He slides down more, to be nearer to the voice.

“Of what?”

“How I’m doing so far. Did you know that the hens come into our house to be fed in the early morning?” 

“No.”

“Well, and the llamas would probably kick you if you harmed their young, but are generally docile creatures.”

“Stephen—“

“And I don’t know 𝘸𝘩𝘺 you want to come here.”

And then in a daze, he feels arms slip under him, and he is carried by strong hands, and then laid on top of a bed. Gavin and the rest of the family look worriedly at him.

“I’m sorry. He’s writing a letter.”

He isn’t the one they’re looking for.

____________________

He wakes up at an ungodly hour.

3𝘢𝘮.

He slides from the bed, steadying himself on the cold floor. He wonders if 𝘩𝘦 is up too.

He wanders to the front gate. And there he sees the figure, a mere outline in the dark night, sitting on the fence, a whistish blot in the dark night. Stars swirl overhead, but he sees that Stephen is oblivious to them, his lavender purple lifting in the soft breeze. He’s watching a dead carcass, by the look of the lump on the ground. Hosuh recoils, yet knows his purpose.

He stops slightly beside the boy on the fence.

He watches the boy of purple observe the dead organism on the ground.

“Can’t you feel it?” The damaged boy asks suddenly.

“Feel what?” 

“Death. I feel it.”

“You’re next to a rotting carcass.”

“Not just that.

“If i were a lamb, I’ll be shot. If I were in Africa, I would be 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥."

“No, you wouldn’t,” Hosuh says, although it would probably be true.

“What if I was gone? My family wouldn’t have to worry so much about a boy who can’t fucking take care of himself. Worrying Gavin and Eva for 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. Making our parents come and visit me every time I have treatment? No. Just no. They have the farm to take care of. They don’t need another 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭."

“You’re not an animal, Stephen.”

“I might as well be.” His voice is low, and slightly cracked.

Stephen looks over to above the carcass, to the distance.

“And who says death is final?”

“Stephen, 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦—“

“Listen!” He says, and in his haste and worry and grief pulls Stephen’s head towards him by his chin. His throat burns with unshed tears and furious worry.

“Listen, Stephen! 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. You know they love you. Look at how Gavin sees you as an older brother to be respected. Look at how Eva sees you as a younger brother she dotes on. Look at how 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 your parents had to do to help you!

“Look!”

Stephen wrenches his head away, but not before Hosuh sees the shine of tears in his fierce ruby eyes. 

“No.” It’s simple, yet final. 

“I don’t 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 you here, Hosuh. Why did you have to come?”

And Hosuh does a thing, desperate to keep his attention on him for just a bit longer.

He whips the bracelet he’d always cherished, kept on always, off his thin wrist, and hurls it over the fence.

It flies off, a spark of gold, and Hosuh thinks that he hears the faint 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘬 of the bracelet falling under the bushes to the ground.

Stephen gapes at Hosuh.

“That was the— the dumbest thing.”

Hosuh laughs, a short one. 

“Do you know what is dumber? You, deciding to 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 quit! You, who can just 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, not just for yourself, also for your family— for 𝘮𝘦!"

“Hosuh—“

“Goddamnit, Stephen— goddamn you!” The tears come anyway like he knows it eventually will, weak like he is. 

𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬.

“Hosuh—“

“Can’t I be 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩 for once, to want you to 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦? Because—

"Because I don’t want to live without you, Stephen! If you give up, what’s gonna happen to 𝘮𝘦?“

“Hosuh, shut up.”

He’s jumped from the fence, and he is approaching him slowly, his face a blank mask, his lavender hair swaying over an eye.

“Because you have to fight, Stephen! Because I 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 you! I fucking need—“

Stephen pulls Hosuh in and slides a gentle hand over his mouth.

“Shhh.” A mere whisper. 

Then he replaces his hand with his mouth.

He hates him. He loves him.

And when they part, just a centimeter apart, the wind pulling their hair, purple mixing perfectly with sliver, Stephen speaks softly.

“How many times do I do it? How many times until I give up?”

“You’re 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 going to give up. Not with me. Not ever. No matter how many times it takes, no matter how much time it wastes. Because I’m here.

“I’m here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm  
> Tasty


End file.
